


I Am Aware Now

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief appearances by the team, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Mace x Daisy, QuakePatriot, Song Inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: Against her best efforts, Daisy has fallen in love.A collection of scenes over the course of a few months that reveal moments between Daisy and Mace as they become close.





	I Am Aware Now

**Author's Note:**

> My buddy and I were discussing a little while ago about our mutual love for Alanis Morissette, and we both agreed that her song “Head Over Feet” gave us some serious Mace x Daisy feels. I finally got around to writing this collection of scenes inspired by it.  
> Also for Anon on Tumblr, who requested Daisy catching Mace on the treadmill. It’s not quite a rewrite of that exact scene in the show, but I hope it suffices! :]  
> AU; Mace gets abducted by Ivanov and the Watchdogs, but he is rescued and life is relatively “normal” and robot-free.

Mace laughed at Mack and Fitz’s antics, as the two men pushed playfully at each other, trying to come to an agreement over a particular Monopoly square. Daisy smiled as she watched Mace sitting next to her, pleased to see the relaxed, wide smile on his face.

The past few weeks, since they’d saved him from Ivanov and the Watchdogs, he’d been a shell of himself. Or at least, a shell of the man who once put inspirational posters in their public bathrooms.

He had a lightness about him again now, though, which Daisy admired. They needed that. As annoying as it sometimes was, his unflappable hope and desire for things to be _better_ was sorely needed in their ragtag group of darkened, tortured souls.

Daisy frowned a little at herself; she was getting too poetic. She needed to lay off the wine.

“Ha! Two-hundred!” Elena crowed when Coulson rolled a four. He groaned heavily as he slid the little car token toward one of Elena’s owned properties.

“I hate you,” He complained as he counted out bills and handed them over. She smiled widely as she accepted them.

“And I love you,” She replied jovially. She’d been snagging his money all game long, and Mack smirked at her proudly.

Then it was Mace’s turn to roll the dice, and he groaned as soon as they came to a stop.

“Jail, _again_? You’ve got to be kidding me.” He huffed as he slouched back against the couch, pouting toward the board game. The others chuckled at his plight; this was the fourth time he’d landed himself in jail in one way or another. He slowly looked up at Daisy, his gaze pleading.

“No way,” She laughed, putting her hand on top of her ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.

“C’mon, please?”

“Nope.”

“Two-hundred bucks.” He offered, and she snorted. “Three-hundred!” She made a show of thinking that over for a moment.

“Three-fifty, and... your last Guinness.” She eventually decided.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not trading you my last pint for a _board game_ ,” He complained.

“Alright,” She shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to get out of jaaa-il,” She sing-songed. “So close to catching up to Elena, but damn those pesky bail costs, huh?”

He huffed, glaring at his knees. She was right, of course — he was the closer than the rest of them as far as closing in on Elena’s lead, but he kept finding himself jailed every couple of turns. Mace stood abruptly and Daisy grinned smugly. As he dug into the back of the fridge for his last bottle of draught, Daisy slid her card over toward his bit of the coffee table.

“I hate you,” He grumbled as he plopped back down onto the couch next to her, popping the cap off of the bottle for her before handing it over.

“No, you don’t,” She sing-songed again, grinning around her sip of cold beer as he picked up the jail card and tossed it in Jemma’s direction, who had opted to be the banker during this game. He pushed his top hat game piece into the “just visiting” section and slouched back into the cushions again.

Then it was Daisy’s turn to roll, but she landed on her own square and she didn’t have quite enough money yet to execute her plan for upgrading her properties. After her turn she leaned back against the cushion, nudging Mace’s shoulder with her own. She held the bottle toward him.

“Want some?”

“No.” He retorted. She raised her eyebrow, still holding the bottle toward him. “Yeah.” He accepted the offer and swallowed a drink, smiling a little before returning the bottle to her.

She leaned a little against him again, companionably, and tried not to think too much about it as she touched her lips against the same place he’d just put his.

As if this were normal for them, teasing each other and sharing the same drink as if they were best friends or something.

Or something.

Daisy focused back on the game, taking another steadying drink.

 

**———**

 

“How was your day?” Mace looked at her intently, sincerely, as they both stood in the silent, dimly-lit kitchen. It was late, and she was exhausted, but he wasn’t just asking as a platitude.

As worn out as he looked as well, he really wanted to know how her day had been. So, she was honest.

And they ended up talking for over an hour, bottles of beer empty in their hands. Daisy felt lighter afterwards, like a weight had lifted off of her shoulders, and Mace looked pleased that they’d been able to hold conversation that long without getting into an argument about something.

Daisy was a little surprised by that, too.

“It’s late,” Daisy realized, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I shouldn’t keep you up.”

“It’s okay,” Mace insisted, and she believed him. They both needed their sleep, though.

“I’ll see you later, Mace.” She said softly, tossing her bottle into the recycling bin. He nodded, briefly looking disappointed before summoning up a small smile.

“Sleep well, Agent Johnson.”

As she walked down the hall toward her quarters, his murmured words floated around inside of her head. The comment had hinted at a familiarity between them, but it had been offset by the formality of ‘Agent Johnson’. She wanted him to feel comfortable enough with her to call her Daisy; at least when they were off duty. He called Coulson ‘Phil’, after all — sometimes like they were old friends. And whatever had happened between them in the Framework, Jemma had since told him that he didn’t have to call her “Dr. Simmons” all the time. Granted, he called most everyone else by their last names and titles, but...

For some reason, she just wasn’t comfortable with his “Agent Johnson” this and “Agent Johnson” that. Especially now that they were on a more friendly basis. What did she have to do to get him to call her Daisy?

 

**———**

 

Jeffrey shrugged out of his dress shirt slowly, dreading the tests Simmons was about to perform on him. Nothing would be new — it would just serve as a further reminder that Jeff’s heart was weak and he still couldn’t be The Patriot.

Not like he used to be, anyway.

He pushed down his trousers next, stepping out of them and folding them carefully before setting them atop the small desk in the side of the room. Comfortable that he was alone for the moment, since Simmons was busy working on something with Daisy’s gauntlets, he stood there in just his briefs, closing his eyes and relaxing his neck slightly as he breathed deeply. He needed to relax before they got started, otherwise the test results might end up a little skewed.

After another moment he peeled off his t-shirt, holding it in one hand while he grimaced and rotated his right shoulder, reaching over with his left hand to massage it a bit. His old stab wound still ached, sometimes, and occasionally he irritated it whenever he dressed or undressed.

“Are you okay?” Daisy’s voice made him jump, and he whirled around to face her.

She was standing there in the doorway of the little specialized pod Simmons had set up just for him and his tests. She quite obviously was struggling to keep her eyes averted from his scantily clad frame, but he could only stand there in surprise for a moment, his hand frozen on top of his shoulder.

“Your shoulder,” She gestured her chin toward it, “is it bothering you?”

He gritted his teeth briefly, but then admitted confirmation with a nod, and slowly lowered his hand back to his side.

“Jemma tells me it’s the scar tissue; it builds up. I gotta do yoga or something to keep it loose, break it up.” He mumbled. He probably sounded like such a wimp to her, but when he glanced up toward her face, he didn’t see any pity in her expression. If anything, she simply looked thoughtful. Slowly, trying not to call attention to it, Jeffrey shifted his hands in front of him, clasping his fingers together above his crotch, covering himself up a little better.

Ten seconds ago he’d been perfectly comfortable in only his skivvies, but now...

“What do you need?” Jeffrey asked, his tone a little sharper than he intended, out of nervousness. Daisy just stared at him for a minute, and then glanced toward the table he was standing near.

“According to her description, that thing.” She pointed toward a small, silver, cylindrical device that Jeffrey had set his clothes next to. He looked at it, then at her.

She didn’t move.

Jeffrey grabbed the device himself and stepped forward to hold it out to her, palm up. He felt awkward, approaching her and just standing there in his briefs in front of her, but he was trying to play it all off as casual.

Still, he made sure he held his tee shirt in his other hand in front of his crotch, at least. He wanted Daisy to like him, not think he was some kind of flaunting creep.

Daisy finally took the device from his hand, moving slowly, her fingers brushing against his skin. He closed his eyes for a second as he mentally willed himself to stay calm.

Daisy was gorgeous, and he was in his underwear.

It was fine. This was totally fine.

“Ivanov did this, right?” She asked quietly, and he opened his eyes just as she reached up with her free hand and touched the pads of her fingers against his pectoral muscle, just beneath the slightly puckered scar tissue. It was only about an inch wide, but Ivanov had plunged the knife in deeply.

Jeffrey was intimately aware that quite a lot of his skin was bared in front of her, but he only flinched away after she pressed against his scar a little firmly. She hesitated, and then pressed again, lower around the old wound, massaging the muscle around it.

“I could help, you know. If you ever need it. May taught me some Tai Chi specifically for keeping your muscles loose and pliable. Helps a lot with testy injuries.”

He was listening to her words, appreciating them greatly, but his skin felt like it was burning.

“Thank you.” He acknowledged softly. Her eyes moved from his gaze back toward his chest, but he realized she was no longer focused on the reminder of Ivanov when she gentled her touch and slid her hand across his chest. Her fingers brushed against his chest hair and he hardly dared to breathe.

He wasn’t sure whether he was more afraid that she would stop, or that she would keep going. Her fingers shifted back again, over his nipple and he swallowed as that touch sparked down beneath his skin and straight toward his groin. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as her hand explored a little lower, sliding down over his ribs, her thumb following the lines of his muscles.

He sucked in a breath, then, unable to keep himself from reacting to her touch, and her hand darted away from him immediately.

“Hell, I am so sorry, that was so inappropriate...” She apologized sincerely, avoiding looking at him entirely, now. She turned and quickly headed toward the other side of the labs where she and Simmons had been earlier.

Jeffrey stood frozen for a moment, his skin still tingling, before he turned around abruptly much like she had and tossed his t-shirt haphazardly atop his folded pants, reaching for the pair of workout shorts that awaited him. He slung them up over his hips with a quick tug and released a shaky breath, blinking with eyes unfocused as he tried to settle his racing heart.

 

**———**

 

“Why are you so awkward?” Daisy laughed, putting her hands on her hips as she looked down at Mace, who was sitting sprawled on his ass on the mats, catching his breath.

His frown at her was most definitely more like a pout than anything else.

“All that length and muscle and yet still here you are,” She continued to tease, gesturing down at him, and he grumbled under his breath as he got to his feet,

“I was a _reporter_  before all this, you know,” He griped. “Just because I work out and try to eat right doesn’t mean I know hand-to-hand combat!”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but it was old frustration, and not directed toward him. She used her frustration at Talbot to push away her memories of all his length and muscle she’d gotten an eyeful of the other day.

“I can’t believe they gave you super-serum and a suit and didn’t think to give you any training.” She complained, not for the first time.

“Most of the time, brute force got the job done.” Mace admitted. “And besides, Talbot never had me assigned on truly dangerous missions... lots of smoke and mirrors; you know that, we’ve discussed this.”

“We have.” Daisy agreed with a sigh. “Well, come on then. Let’s hit the bags for a while. I need to watch your form.” She tapped his arm companionably with her fist, and gestured her head to the heavy bags as she walked toward them.

“If all you needed was an excuse to check me out,” Mace let his teasing comment drift unfinished, grinning as he stepped with her, and Daisy’s next punch to his arm wasn’t so soft. “Ow!” He whined, wincing.

Daisy smiled fondly as Mace checked the wraps on his hands and then planted his feet.

“You know, I’ve only ever seen you in those suits,” Daisy mused as he started with a couple of easy punches. “They don’t really do you justice.”

“Oh? So you _have_  been looking,” He sounded mildly haughty, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. His fists hesitated near the bags and the tips of his ears tinged red. After another beat, he began throwing punches again.

“Right, left, right, uppercut,” Daisy instructed. Once he began that routine, she teased him, “You just got embarrassed by your own flirting.”

“No I didn’t.” He lied horribly.

“Keep your guard up when you punch,” She reminded him, tapping his left elbow. “And move with the bag.”

“Yes ma’am,” He drawled, his eyebrow twitching.

“Stop flirting before you embarrass yourself again and break your wrist or something,” Daisy joked lightly. “And pick it up, come on — this is supposed to be a workout.”

He smiled widely, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and did as she asked.

She smiled, too, standing back where he couldn’t see her expression.

She guided him through a few different drills before she eventually told him to stop, passing him a bottle of water.

“Not bad,” She praised honestly. “You’re improving. You were faster today than you were last week.”

“Maybe next time I get kidnapped I’ll actually be able to do some damage when I punch a guy.” Mace glowered a little.

“What do you mean?” Daisy wondered. “You punched a guy and it didn’t work?”

“Post-serum,” He clarified, and she silently ‘ah’d in realization. “I managed to break free, at one point.”

“From Ivanov and his goons?” Daisy stared at him. “Why the hell didn’t you get out of there? Call one of us?”

“I...” He was embarrassed, again. “I wanted to bring them in. Arrest them.”

“Oh, _please_  tell me you quoted the SHIELD handbook at them.” She grinned, and he pouted.

“SHIELD has authority!” He protested.

“Not to the Watchdogs, we don’t,” Daisy mused, shaking her head fondly at him. “That is adorable. And stupid. But... brave.” He’d started to deflate, but then he perked up a little. “Stupid but brave.”

“Maybe that can be my new slogan,” He joked self-deprecatingly, but he was standing a little taller than he had been before.

“Oh yeah, that’ll look perfect on the bathroom wall.” She agreed dryly.

 

**———**

 

“Agent Johnson,” Jeffrey drawled, gesturing she enter the hall ahead of him as they left the hangar bay. She looked perplexed for a brief moment, but walked in, waiting for him to join her before she continued down the hall.

He tried not to look at her too much, stuffing his hands into his pockets and doing his best impression of casual.

“So what do you think about — ”

“Why do you do that?” She interrupted him. He tilted his head at her.

“Do what?”

“We hang out. Train together. Sometimes we’re like partners, yeah?”

“Especially on days like today, when we’ve got senators to argue with.” He agreed emphatically. “I couldn’t do half of this without you.” He told her honestly.

“Well what’s with the ‘Agent Johnson’ thing?” She demanded. He stopped walking, giving her a confused look.

“That’s your name?” He pointed out, half in question.

“I don’t get you,” She stopped as well, and put her hands on her hips. “You act all friendly but then you detach yourself and isn’t that supposed to be _my_  thing? Not Mr. ‘We’re a team!’ Guy.”

“I’m not being _detached_ ,” He huffed, “I’m being respectful.”

“Excuse me?” That seemed to throw her a little.

“You’re an agent, Daisy. You worked hard to become one, and that deserves respect.”

“Well what about _Phil_?” She questioned pointedly.

“Phil knows I respect him.”

“So you’re saying I don’t?” He raised his eyebrow at her words, and she huffed quietly, lowering her hands by her sides. “I _know_  you respect me, Mace. You don’t have to call me ‘Agent’ all the time just to prove it.”

“Maybe I want to,” He challenged.

“Well, save it for the cameras,” She retorted, and Jeffrey couldn’t help but feel a little hurt at that. It must’ve shown on his face, because her expression immediately softened.

“It’s not for _them_ , it’s for _you_.”

“I didn’t mean... Look,” She softened her tone, as well, “if you want to call me Agent Johnson in the courtroom and during meetings or whatever, that’s fine. But around here? When it’s just you and me? I like Daisy.”

“I didn’t want to presume.” He admitted hesitantly.

“To call me by my first name?” She furrowed her brow at him.

“To be that familiar.” He nodded a bit. Daisy stared at him for a long minute.

“Maybe you should’ve gotten kidnapped a lot earlier. This Mace is different than the first one I met,” She gestured vaguely at him, slowly starting to walk down the hall again. He followed her lead, walking beside her once more.

“Not different. You’re just seeing beyond the song and dance, now.” He reminded her.

He wanted to ask her to call him Jeffrey. Sometimes she did — usually when she was teasing him a lot, or if she was sassing him in the office. It always made him a bit breathless, even when she was mad at him.

“This is the twenty-first century,” Daisy said, “plus I’ve seen you practically naked. You can call me Daisy.”

Jeffrey sucked in a breath and half choked, not expecting to be reminded of that right now.

“I am grateful for your respect,” She told him when he didn’t say anything. “I appreciate it, and everything you’re trying to do to better my public image, but... in the end it’s not the public opinion I care about. Not when it comes to _me_  and _my_  life, anyway. The Inhumans in general are one thing, but in my personal life, my business? I care about my friends. Boss-status aside, you’re one of them. So stop worrying so much about making sure I feel useful or whatever, and just be you.”

He smiled at her serious but compassionate expression.

“I don’t think that way just because I’m your boss,” Jeffrey pointed out, “I do it because I think you’re amazing.”

Daisy’s eyebrows both raised really slowly at that, and she turned to look at him. He pressed his lips together firmly, but didn’t negate his statement.

“Well... Jeffrey,” Her eyes practically twinkled, “Let’s see how amazing you find me at five-thirty in the morning for training, huh?”

She smirked a little at him as they reached the fork in the hallway, and she turned to saunter off toward her quarters.

He watched her walk away, feeling breathless, and intently hopeful.

And, after glancing at his watch and discovering the late hour, dreadful of tomorrow morning.

 

**———**

 

Mace either didn’t understand subtlety, or he didn’t want to. Over the course of the following month he was constantly doing things big and small; bringing her a cup of coffee, checking in on her if she had a time-consuming hack to perform, sharing his beer with her (again) after a rough day, guarding her from the media when she wasn’t in the mood for dealing with reporters. They chatted after hours more and more often, open with one another about what was annoying them with work lately, or sharing funny anecdotes to make each other laugh.

Then they started opening up about other things, about personal histories that may or may not be in files.

And then he brought her flowers.

There were only three; red tulips laying carefully by themselves atop her desk one afternoon. There was no accompanying note, but she wasn’t an idiot. She also wasn’t usually much of a romantic, but...

“Oh my, someone has a secret admirer,” Jemma teased, having followed Daisy to her office. “Those are nice,” She mused, giving Daisy a curious look.

“Well, shit.” Daisy commented, as she looked at the flowers and felt her heart in her throat. He’d been damn _wooing_  her, and as much as she had tried to keep it casual, a little light flirtation here and there, her heart had apparently had other plans.

She gently touched her finger against one of the soft petals, and smiled.

“You know who those are from.” Jemma realized. Daisy immediately pulled her hand away, hesitating. “They’re from Director Mace, aren’t they,” She figured, and Daisy furrowed her brow slightly. Jemma rolled her eyes. “He’s lately been quite... earnest, with you.”

“I’ve tried to...” Daisy trailed off, and then went for a different angle. “You know my luck when it comes to my love life. I didn’t want to... I hadn’t exactly planned on falling in love again. Not anytime soon, anyway. You know?”

Jemma gave her a warm look.

“Hadn’t? Past tense?” She pointed out softly. Daisy pursed her lips, but she didn’t want to lie to her friend. “Director Mace...” Jemma mused. “Really?”

“It wasn’t like I made a choice!” Daisy protested. “I didn’t wake up one morning and think, ‘Yeah, I’m gonna be in love with Jeffrey Mace. That sounds like a good idea’.”

“Well, he _is_  handsome. And he can be sweet. And it’s obvious he cares very deeply.”

“Yeah...” Daisy trailed off, and then avoided Jemma’s amused expression. “Anyway, yeah,” Daisy said brusquely, “We just... we talk a lot. And eventually I started realizing that he wasn’t just being flirty to joke around. I think he’s actually been trying to tell me how he feels for quite a while, now.”

Jemma’s smile widened, and Daisy shifted her weight on her feet, giving her best friend a little glowering look.

“Stop that.” Daisy complained, but she smiled a little as well, and picked up one of the tulips.

“Why don’t you go find him?” Jemma suggested. “He’s probably in his office.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Daisy pointed out, and Jemma shrugged.

“So what? He brought you flowers in the middle of the day, didn’t he? I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“Jemma, I don’t think,”

“It’s worth fighting for, Daisy. Trust me.” Jemma interrupted her seriously. “You deserve a good man who loves you.”

And that was how Daisy found herself totally-not-sneaking into Mace’s office in the middle of the day with a single red tulip in her hand. She counted her blessings that she hadn’t run into anyone from the team on the way.

Mace looked up from his desk when she entered, his face lighting up as he recognized her, but then he noticed the flower and his expression became more anxious. He immediately got to his feet.

“Davis, Jones, give us a minute.” He ordered the agents sitting in front of his desk. They both glanced back to look at Daisy, and then stood.

“Hey, Daisy,” Davis murmured warmly as they passed, and she fondly tapped his shoulder. He pulled the door closed after he and Jones exited, and Daisy wondered what she was going to say to Mace.

They stared silently at one another for a minute. For the first time in quite a while, he appeared extremely nervous in her presence.

“Jeffrey,” She began carefully, fiddling with the flower a little bit as she approached his desk.

“I thought about getting you daisies, but figured that would be too predictable.” Mace blurted, gesturing toward the tulip.

“I’m not usually into flowers,” Daisy admitted, “but this was a nice surprise.” His anxiousness seemed to mellow out a bit at that. “May I try something?” She asked him, slowly rounding the side of his desk. He watched her warily, as she set the tulip on the corner of his desk.

“Honestly, I can’t tell whether you’re about to punch me, or something else.” He told her carefully.

“Something else. Just... stand still.” She replied, stopping almost toe-to-toe with him. She put her hand against the front of his shirt, feeling his warmth. She brushed her thumb against the soft fabric briefly, and then tilted her chin up to ghost her mouth over his.

To his credit, he stood perfectly still. In fact, with her hand on his chest she could tell that he’d stopped breathing, too.

“Does this mean it’s mutual?” He wondered, his voice almost a whisper.

“I tried not to, you know.” She told him, keeping her face close to his for the moment. “As soon as I realized I was starting to admire you, I told myself not to fall for you. And between the two of us, that managed to work out for a while.”

He grimaced a little, no doubt recalling past heated arguments between them.

“Somewhere along the way I discovered that I wasn’t merely a part of your ‘song and dance’,” She continued. “You have always been entirely genuine with me — frankly, sometimes to a fault. It eventually became impossible for me to hate you. ...And then it became impossible for me not to love you.”

His expression completely softened then, his gaze going all adoring and puppy-eyed, and she rested her other hand against his cheek.

“Jeffrey?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d like to kiss you again.”

He swallowed.

“Okay.”

“Jeffrey?”

“What?”

“I’d like you to kiss me back, this time.” She raised her eyebrow at him. His tongue darted out quickly against his lips.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” His reply was nonchalant, aloof, but he was also fairly breathless.

She smiled as she closed the distance again, and he returned her smile and her kiss wholeheartedly.

* * *

 


End file.
